


New Beginning

by Natazz1011



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chansaw, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Minor Angst, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, in a skippable chapter, nice heather chandler au, not with the relationship though, will tag as things come up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-01-30 18:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12658635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natazz1011/pseuds/Natazz1011
Summary: Veronica Sawyer meets new student Heather Chandler on their first day of senior year. Their friendship comes easily, and so does everything after that. The slow burn Chansaw we've been waiting for.





	1. I Said, You're Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This my first time posting on Ao3, I was writing this for NaNo and I was like damn I really want to publish it. Chapters will be added weekly so I don’t have to play catch-up and leave this on hiatus while I write. Please, enjoy!

_Dear diary,_

_Here we are, the first day of senior year. You know, last night felt like Christmas Eve: I couldn’t fall asleep, the thought that today would be too exciting to bare buzzed inside me like electricity. The feeling that everything would change today. That today would be the start of life beyond high school. But, God, did it feel lackluster getting up at six in the morning, nearly being trampled by the cheer team walking to homeroom. It’s just… school today. Martha’s really excited, though, so I’ve been acting it up for her. God knows she could use some godforsaken validation in this place. It wasn’t even an hour into the day before Ram Sweeney was all up in her personal space, probably making some fat joke or another. It makes me think about when they were friends, in elementary school. What happened to everyone between then and now? Those kids were all sweet, and innocent. These kids? These kids will rake you through the mud with no remorse, soulless creatures that just care about their reputations. And Martha, she’s got a huge heart, but around here, that’s just not enough. High school? More like The Thunder Dome._

 

Veronica looked up from her diary, taking in the state of the cafeteria on this lovely September day. She could see Ram and Kurt harassing some poor nerd, Ms. Flemming handing out detention slips left and right for anything she could, that guy Jason sulking in the corner, trenchcoat-y creepiness in full effect. All was usual, almost like they had never even taken the summer off. One might think so if not for the tan skin and freckled faces, fresh off the beaches of the Great Lakes.

 

She sighed, shutting her diary, and turning her attention to Martha in the seat across from her. “So, Veronica, have you met the new girl? I think her name’s Heather. Funny, now there's three Heathers in our grade alone. Heather Duke, Heather McNamara, and her. In fact, I think she’s sitting with them right now,” she said, looking over Veronica’s shoulder at a table across the cafeteria. Veronica furrowed her eyebrows. Word travels far too fast in Westerburg, how had she not heard about a new girl? She shook her head at Martha before also turning to look at the aforementioned new girl. Her eyes scanned the lunch tables in search of Heather Duke and Heather McNamara, soon finding them. Right next the them sat the honest-to-God prettiest girl Veronica had ever seen. From her curly, red hair, to her dimpled smile, even the way she rested her head in her hand tiredly was attractive. And yeah, she was staring at this point, but, like, totally justified.

 

She was forced back to reality by Martha’s dainty poking at her shoulder. Veronica tried to ignore her knowing smile as she asked, “I know you haven’t met her, but something makes me think you _really_ want to.” Veronica rolled her eyes, ready to deny any attraction, but come on, Veronica Sawyer can’t lie for shit. So she sighed, looking back to Martha, “... Maybe. Have _you_ met her?” This earned a smug grin, “She might sit next to me in chemistry. You know, that one class you switched out of so you could have an extra study hall.” Veronica smacked her forehead onto her arms, crossed in front of her on the table. Her sigh travelled through her whole body, causing Martha to giggle, “Come on, ‘Ron. Should fate will it, you’ll be in Heather’s arms in no time.” Veronica groaned at the teasing, lifting her head as the bell for next class rang. She sighed as she stood up bidding Martha a, “Bye asshole,” as she gathered her things and made her way into the halls of Westerburg High.

 

Much like her morning, Veronica’s afternoon classes were nothing short of uneventful. Syllabus week was a doozy. Though, she did get a glance of New Heather in the hallway between English and Trigonometry, and she had no idea how a girl could be so hypnotizing. She walked so confidently, head high, feet sure, and eyes dead ahead. Her eyes... let’s just say that those eyes could knock Veronica out cold in a second. And it would be totally worth it.

 

Six hours later, and now there’s only 179 days until graduation. Veronica stood outside the school’s doors waiting for Martha to make her way to the parking lot. She may or may not have been looking around for a certain newly initiated triumvirate of a given name, when Martha and said Heather appeared at her side from inside the school. Of course friendly Martha had already acquainted her. Martha tapped her shoulder, startling her slightly. “Hey ‘Ron, you mind if Heather comes to see _Justice League_ with us on Friday? She hasn’t been downtown yet and I figured we could show her around and treat her to a movie,” she asked, in all of her kind and giving glory. Veronica felt like a creep at how eager she sounded as she replied, “Yeah, for sure! That’ll be, like, totally cool, yeah… Awesome.” Martha cringed but tried to hide it for Veronica’s sake, and Heather’s eyes were swimming with good-natured amusement, a smile threatening its way out of her mouth.

 

“Well, I’ll see you guys tomorrow. _I_ have to go study some comic books for Friday,” Heather joked, passing them both, flashing a smile over her shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you home,” Martha pressed the back of her hand to Veronica’s forehead, feeling for a temperature. “Oh gosh, it’s just as I suspected. You’ll need some medicine to get that darn Love-Bug out of your system.”

 

_Dear Diary,_

_If Martha keeps up the teasing I think I might be dead by June. But, on the bright side of today: classes were the easiest they’ll be all year, no one bothered me, and I have a friend-date with New Heather at the end of the week. I might have looked like a fool in front of her today, but hell, when don’t I? The presence of a pretty girl certainly didn’t help, though. And I’m going to have to spend_ at least _two hours with her Friday. Christ, I’m screwed. She’s going to think I’m a creep, or that I’m obsessed with her or something. Oh my God she’s going to think I’m insane like that Jason Dean kid. How do I subtly convince a cute girl that, no, I’m not staring because I’m trying to judge the easiest method of murder, I’m just hopelessly in like with you. Actually, who knows? Maybe Martha can invite her to sit with us at lunch, then I can practice speaking the English language properly. Wait, she sits with Heather and Heather. Who would sit with_ us _over Heather and Heather? I’d think she’s insane if she did. Anyway, tomorrow's another day. Can’t wait to see how that goes._


	2. Teen Angst Bullshit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gals chit chat. We learn a little about Heather, but not too much ;)

_ Dear Diary, _

_ I’m not even out of bed yet and I’m already thinking about seeing New Heather today. What’s wrong with me? _

_ I think I’m going to ask Martha to ask Heather to sit with us at lunch today, because God knows I can’t talk to her. If she agrees, then we can both check into the psychiatric hospital, too. Me for this stupid  _ obsessive _ crush, and her for hanging out with Veronica-Threesome-Sawyer and Martha Dumptruck instead of the Heathers. Martha can come visit us on the weekends, and we can tell her all about group therapy and the lockless bathroom doors. Now that I think about it, what’s New Heather’s last name? That’s how basically everyone refers to Heather Mcnamara and Duke. New Heather kind of works though. Ugh, enough creeping. I’m going to be late if I don’t get up. Wish me luck. _

Veronica and Martha trudged through Westerburg’s front doors, zig-zagging to their lockers. They reached Martha’s first, and Veronica leaned on the wall next to her while she gathered her books. She could do this. “Hey, Martha, uhm,” she hesitated. “You have chemistry with Heather this morning right?” Martha looked at her around her locker door, “I actually have chemistry with  _ two _ Heathers this morning. Do you mean Duke or Chandler?” Chandler, Heather Chandler. Nice. It suited her. “Uhm, New Heather, Chandler. Why don’t you offer her a seat with us in the cafe today? You know, get to know her a bit before Friday,” she stumbled out, trying to keep an air of casualty. Martha shut her locker, giving Veronica a knowing look. Though she also spoke as if their conversation’s true motives were at face value, “Yeah, I’m sure Heather would love some more friends.” Veronica smiled sarcastically, and straightened up as the bell for homeroom rang. They parted ways and Martha sent one last, “See you at lunch, ‘Ron, I know you can’t wait,” Veronica’s way.

Veronica’s morning was uneventful, bar stressing over Heather Chandler. She liked that she knew her name now. It kind of really made her a Heather in her mind. McNamara, Duke, and Heather Chandler. Again, why would a  _ Heather  _ sit with  _ them _ ? Not that the Heathers were mean, or incredibly popular, but they were… above your common student. Not bullied, not harassed, they just  _ were _ . Who would choose threesome rumors and fat jokes over solid teflon shields?

The clock struck noon, and Veronica felt her heart inflating with anxiety in her chest. Martha would be getting out of chemistry with Heather right now. The moment of truth. She felt like time was moving too fast as she made her way to the now crowding cafeteria. Martha would be there by now, meaning Heather would be there. Or she wouldn’t. Veronica really didn’t know which she’d prefer. She didn’t have time to decide by the time she reached the daunting double doors.

She pushed them open, like she was marching to her last meal on death row. Her eyes instantly moved to her and Martha’s table, and there she was. Heather Chandler was in her spot, across from Martha, both of them likely awaiting her arrival. No pressure, or anything. As she drew closer to the pair she noticed Heather’s outfit: all red. Jacket, belt and knee socks. That’s… what’s a less objectifying word than hot? ...Fuck it. Heather looked  _ hot _ . Well, that’s sure to help Veronica communicate like a normal human. After waiting in line for her lunch, Veronica anxiously and  _ excitedly _ made her way to the seat next to Heather Chandler. Here goes nothing. She pulled out her chair and set down her tray. Four eyes were on her as she sat down.

She looked to Heather but the close eye contact made her far too anxious, so she looked to Martha as she greeted, “Hey guys. Chemistry ok?” Great start. Martha nodded genuinely, while Heather laughed. “Well, as good as a bunch of math and science could be. Ugh, and the teacher. ‘Sure, Heather, you can go get some dihydrogen monoxide, but be quick!’” she mocked. Martha swallowed her food and added, “You should have heard the stuff she came up with while teaching biology last year.” Veronica and Martha laughed at the memories of past classes while Heather watched them in amusement. As their giggles died down, Martha filled the following silence, “So, Heather, what was your old school like? Bet it doesn’t hold a light up to good ole ‘Wet-burgers’ High.” Heather smiled, and looked down at her lap before answering. A deep breath, “It was… certainly a war-zone. I can’t say I miss it, really. I’m sure it’s not too different from here, but if I can give myself a different experience then I might as well be in a different dimension compared to that place.” She looked away, almost sadly, like a painful nostalgia. Nostalgia isn’t really the right word. She didn’t long for what she remembered, she didn’t miss it, but it was a past that clung to her, rather. The past that didn’t want her to forget about it.

Martha, oblivious, looked like she was about to ask for an elaboration, but Veronica spoke up instead. “Uhm, well- I’m sure if you hang around with Heather and Heather, senior year will just fly by. They kind of exist in the Switzerland of this ‘war-zone.’ And you share a name, so, that’s a plus,” she added, trying to lighten the mood. Heather smiled at the thought of her new friends, giving Veronica a thankful glance for the shift in topic, “Yeah, they’re sweet. Though, I don’t know how smoothly they sail. That Kurt Kelly is always trying to get Heather McNamara to go on a date with him, and Ram seems to think he and Heather Duke are going steady, for whatever reason. And… and who’s that kid who wears the black jacket all the time? He, like…stares at them a lot...” Veronica and Martha shared a knowing look, but Martha took a bite from her sandwich, not one to talk badly about  _ anyone _ . Veronica turned to Heather, her confidence growing as their conversation carried on, “That’s Jason Dean. He’s… a bit of a mind-case. Mommy issues, and daddy issues, the works. I mean, he’s not all bad, but… I wouldn’t go on an airplane with him, you know?” Heather knew she wasn’t serious, but her eyes widened comically as she turned to look at the boy in question, “Got it: Check him for a holster before following him down an alleyway.” Veronica laughed at her sense of humor, glad she could take Veronica’s somewhat offensive jokes. Martha chuckled too, against her better judgement. 

Heather and Veronica could both see Kurt and Ram enter the cafeteria from where they were seated, and Veronica noticed Heather’s eyes following them across the room. She said to Heather, also watching the boys approach the other Heathers, “Don’t mind Ram and Kurt, either. They’re too dumb to cause any real harm. Just… if they ask you on a date, or to go to a party... definitely don’t.” Heather looked at her, seeing that there was a story to be told, but did what Veronica did for her, and turned the subject to  _ Justice League _ , having fulfilled her promise on seeing what the comics were all about. They would all spill their demons some other day, no need to bare their souls right now.

_ Dear Diary, _

_Heather’s good. Heather Chandler is really good. And I_ really _like Heather Chandler. This begs the question: am I_ _good enough for Heather Chandler? Now, Martha would say yes, but I’m not too sure because Martha tends to see only the good in people. That’s not to say I think I’d be_ bad _for her, though. I just think that: 1) she might not even be queer, 2) am I in her league anyway? I digress, this will not be a Heather Chandler Stalker Journal. Which is making writing anything substantial very hard. Because what else is there to write about, really? The latest episode of Family Feud? No, so in that case, I guess we wait for something interesting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! So I've decided to try and update regularly on Fridays, so yay. Thanks for all of the kudos/comments they mean so much :').


	3. Your Daydreams, My Reality, Believe Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains alcohol, recounts of attempted sexual assault, and talks about bullying. Normally I'd say "Enjoy" but it seems in poor taste, so I'll settle on "Thanks for reading."

_ Dear Diary, _

_ Nothing exciting has happened, not even in dream-world. Unfortunate. Not that I wish I’d dreamt of Heather. I mean, Heather’s not the only exciting thing happening in my life right now, either. Like, the new  _ Justice League _ ’s coming out! ...Which I’m seeing with Heather. Damnit, I sound like a psycho. Alright, enough of that. Martha said that she might ask the other Heathers to come sit at our table too today, so that’ll be exciting. It’ll be a real party of a time. _

Another day, another lousy 3 hours before lunch. Another day closer to Veronica punching her own clock due to boredom. Really, hiring teachers  _ that _ boring should be illegal. To be honest the only thing keeping her going at this point was knowing it'll be summer again in 9 months. The school year was certainly pregnant: Those nine months of suffering, then graduation was the great new life afterward.

Veronica was the first to their lunch table, so she wasn’t sure if Heather Duke and Heather McNamara would be joining them today, but her question was answered when all three heathers sat down around her. Heather Chandler pulled out the seat next to Veronica, using a hand on Veronica’s shoulder to keep herself steady as she sat down. Veronica’s face burned at the contact, which remained as Heather asked her, “Hey, Veronica, how are you and Martha getting downtown, Friday?” Veronica would have looked her in the eyes as she answered, but the touching  _ plus _ eye contact? Far too overwhelming .She fiddled with whatever she could in front of her as she responded, “Uhm, I’m taking my mom’s car to pick Martha up, and then I’m driving her home later, too. Why, need a ride?” Heather nodded, hand  _ still _ on her shoulder, “Yeah, do you mind at all? You don’t need to go out of your way to come get me.”

Now, listen. Veronica may not be a Libra, but, boy, does she have some Libra qualities. Like, for example, letting some slightly-less-than-appropriate flirtatious comments slip through. And she was very flustered, okay? That hand has been on her shoulder for a whole minute at this point.

“Aw, Heather, it’s never out of the way for you,” she smiled, turning to look up at Heather. Obviously, some part of her medulla or pons considers making a fool of herself an involuntary function, because the sheer embarrassment didn’t set in until Heather laughed loud and clear, in good humor, at Veronica’s slip. She gave her shoulder a squeeze with her, “Thanks, ‘Ronnie,” before lifting away her hand. Veronica spent the last 60 agonizing seconds waiting for the contact to break, but now the hand was gone and she was equally as uninhibited and her shoulder was just cold.

Turning her attention back to her surroundings, Veronica noticed Martha had arrived, and the Heathers were now engaged in a conversation surrounding what seemed to be a last minute party at some jock’s house. Veronica was about to tune out when Heather Duke caught her attention, “C’mon Heather, it’ll be your first Westerburg party! What if Veronica came too?” The three looked at her, Heather Chandler asking surprised, “You party?” to which Veronica shot back, “You’re the one who needs convincing—do you?” Heather chuckled, rolling her eyes, “What do I look like? Mother Theresa? Trust me, I’ve been to more parties than I’d like.” Everyone gave a good chuckle, but Veronica just so happened to be looking right at Heather as she spoke. Close enough that she could see her discomfort and the truth of the statement.

“Well, if you guys really want me to come… I guess I’m free tonight,” she interjected, surprising Martha, who knew Veronica hadn’t gone to a party in almost a year. Not since Kurt and Ram. Martha clearly expressed her surprise, “Really, ‘Ron? You sure about that?” She worriedly looked around the table, knowing that at least two of the Heather’s would be partying and not exactly looking out for her friend once alcohol was involved. She remembered what happened last time she was alone at a party. Before Veronica could reassure her friend, Heather Chandler cut in, “I’ll be there with her, I promise, Martha. We can keep an eye on each other.” She looked to Veronica flashing her a smile. She smiled back before turning to Martha, “Yeah, I’ll be alright. If anything happens, which, nothing will, we’ll let you know.” So, they were a ”we” for the evening. How very exciting.

Heather Chandler pulled up in her mom’s car at seven on the dot, which is impressive considering she had to pick up an already pre-gamed Heather and Heather first. She watched Veronica step out the door, calling goodbye to her mom or dad. She watched her walk to the car, in a trance. A trance which was broken by a tipsy Heather Duke, “Alright, Heather. Keep your panties on… for now at least.” The two in the backseat burst into giggles at Heather’s dirty joke, and at the blush on Heather Chandler’s face. At least it matched her outfit.

The ride was uneventful, thankfully, and Heather and Heather kept their jokes and giggles in the backseat. The front seat riders weren’t  _ tense _ , per se, but they both were nervous for their own reasons. Veronica hadn’t been to a party since last year, when Kurt and Ram started that rumor after she… turned them down, let’s say. And Heather, well, Veronica had no idea why Heather was so nervous. The way she spun it today in the cafeteria, it sounds like she’s know how to act at a party just fine, having been to enough. Maybe it was the new school, new people, and first impressions. Yeah, maybe.

The party itself was… a high school party. Smelly, hot, sticky. The usual uncomfortable atmosphere. To the sober at least, those with just the smallest inebriation felt perfectly at home, grinding on the living room table, spilling trashy beer across the kitchen. Upon entry, Heather and Heather went straight to the kitchen to carry on drinking, while Veronica took Heather Chandler by the arm to try and find some uncrowded corner in the bustling house. Easier said than done. Meaning, they couldn’t find anywhere, which prompted Heather to say, “Fuck it!” and lead them to the kitchen for drinks.

“So, Veronica, what’ll it be? We feeling beer or mixing something up?” she asked, standing with her hands on the counter, surrounded by assortments of various alcohol, and an abundance of bad beer. Veronica surveyed her options, before settling on, “Why don’t you surprise me?” Heather smiled, almost smirking a little, “First party in a year and you’re already letting a stranger mix your drinks, ballsy. Good thing you’re in luck, my piña coladas were a hit at Jefferson parties.” Veronica leaned her back on the counter while Heather started making their drinks. “Jefferson? You go to a lot of college parties?” she asked. Heather laughed, “Yeah, you could say that. I went to parties at a  _ lot _ of schools. High schools, colleges, frat houses, you name it. You could call me a connoisseur of lame weekends and Sunday hangovers.” She handed Veronica her drink, lifting her own to take a sip. Before her cup could reach her lips, Veronica’s hand reached out and lowered her drink, raising her own in a toast, “Well, here’s to you curing  _ both _ of our hangovers on a Thursday.” Heather laughed and lifted her cup over their heads, “To prairie oysters in coffee mugs!”

Several hours later, Veronica had definitely had more than one piña colada, and Heather and Heather had left to go home with some boy or another. Heather and Veronica were lounging on a couch when Veronica started searching through her pockets, obviously distraught. Heather sat up, watching her in amusement, “Hey, V’, looking for something?” Veronica whipped her head to look at Heather in surprise, “Yeah! I’m- my- I can’t find my keys Heath’- they’re like, nowhere! How am I s’posed to, dr-drive you, home, you know? Are we like, stuck here?” Normally Heather would hold in her laugh, but two-drinks-and-one-shot Heather had no such restraints. She threw her arm across Veronica’s shoulders, taking her hand in her free one, “‘Ron-’Ron,  _ I _ drove us here.  _ And _ , my keys are in the bowl by the door like a  _ responsible _ teen drinker and driver. Not-not at the same time though, that’s the responsible part of it.” Veronica sat in thought for a minute, then looked back at Heather, “Well, shit. Wanna-wanna go then, Missss Respib-repons- Miss Responsible?” Heather checked her phone for the time, then grabbed Veronica by the hand and pulled her into the kitchen. They wormed their way to the fridge where Heather grabbed two water bottles, handing one to Veronica. She opened her own and started chugging, “Well, come on, you lightweight. Drink up. Unless you really want to try my prairie oyster tomorrow.”

The car ride was, aside from being a teensy bit illegal, was apparently hilarious to the two tipsy ladies, who laughed the whole way to Heather Chandler’s house. They both clambered out of the car, and started up the driveway. Veronica grabbed Heather’s hand as she stopped short halfway to the house, “Wait, this isn’t my house. Is this your house? Am I staying the night? Wow, you haven’t even bought me dinner yet…” Heather rolled her eyes, “There’s no way I’m sneaking you into your house like this.” She then dragged Veronica the rest of the way to the door. The door opened slowly but surely, carefully quiet. Veronica decided to grab the least missable bottle of alcohol out of the Chandler’s cupboard on their pass through the kitchen. They tiptoed unsurely up to Heather’s room, careful not to hit any creaks in the floor. It’s not like Heather’s had the chance to sneak into her new home drunk yet. First time for everything. The second Heather’s door softly clicked shut, they burst into hushed giggles and opened the cheap rum.

Heather flopped back on the bed and took a sip, while Veronica perused the room, looking at every little thing that is Heather, strewn about. Pictures, books, knick knacks, souvenirs, etcetera. There were a pair of glasses on the bedstand and she smiled at the thought of them on Heather. She picked them up, unfolding them to peer through the lenses, “Are these yours?” Heather looked up and rolled her eyes, cheeks full of a swig of rum. She swallowed as she sat up, reaching her hand out for the spectacles, “Yes, sadly, I’m blinder than a bat in daylight. Freakin’ hate these things.” She folded them back up and shoved them in the bedside table’s drawer. Veronica smiled before putzing about the room some more. After getting a fair glance at her surroundings, she joined Heather on the bed, where they proceeded to pass the bottle back and forth. A few minutes? hours? later, they didn’t know, the conversation took a turn deeper. 

Heather lay on her stomach, Veronica on her back next to her, near empty bottle cuddled against her gut. Alcoholic inhibition in full effect, Heather asked, “So, ‘Ronnie-onnie, why, oh, why, don’t you party anymore?” Veronica looked to Heather and smiled slyly, “Gosh, I don’t know Heath’, I think I partied plenty, tonight.” They shared a laugh at their own drunk expenses. She looked up to the ceiling and grew somber, “Uh, I went to a… a big party last year. Without anyone. I mean, I obviously knew people there, but… No one was  _ with _ me. I was pretty drunk… Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney seemed to notice. They, uh, came onto me, and tried to get me to sleep with them. Both. I didn’t, though, I got away and went home, but… They told  _ everyone _ that I had a threesome with them. Almost everyone at the party saw it all happening, it was right in the living room, but no one seemed to care, no one tried to help. The Monday after the only thing the school could fucking talk about was the big swordfight they had in my mouth. I went to therapy throughout the summer because I couldn’t stop having nightmares about the two of them in some random kid’s dark bedroom, drunk, unable to move, or speak. It happened so often and so clearly that I even thought that maybe they  _ had _ raped me, and my mind just repressed it, but I remember clearly walking to the lawn and getting a ride from some cheerleader. So yeah, I’ve kind of curved party invites since the almost-rape and birth of Veronica Threesome Sawyer.”

Heather’s eyes remained glue to Veronica’s as she retold events to the ceiling. She looked down, contemplating. Then she moved about on the bed until she was on her back, too, next to a quiet Veronica. She wasn’t asleep, but deep in thought, no doubt about the torment and bullying she suffered at the hands of a lie crafted by a pair of wounded egos.

Heather looked to Veronica out of the corner of her eye and sighed. She looked up to the ceiling as well, and disrupted the silence, “Wanna be the first Wetserburger to know why the high and mighty Heather Chandler ditched Remington for Sherwood, O-frickin-hio?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was a monster. It was almost 5k words, it was to much filler, it was a mess. So I split it into chapters 3 and 4, for two reasons. 1) like I said, length. 2) Chapter 4 is like 100% skip-able, it's (SPOILER) Heather talking about her attempted suicide. Also, since I have the next handful of chapters written, should I post the next part sooner than Friday, since it's not essential? Or do I just post as scheduled? Thank you so much for reading, and thank you for all the kudos and comments!!


	4. Continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a continuation of last chapter, but it is 100% able to be skipped, since in is only Heather C. talking about her past suicide attempt. I decided to post it before Friday because I don't want to, like, "punish anyone who can't or won't read the chapter due it its contents by leaving them for an extra week with no chapter. Anyway, if this is in anyway offensive or just incredibly far from the truth, please let me know so changes can be made, because suicide should not be trivialized or romanticized, even in fan fiction. Thank you so much for reading, chapter 5 will be up Friday as per usual!

Veronica turned her head, coming face-to-face with Heather’s profile, “High and mighty?  _ Remington _ ?” Heather rolled her eyes, “Yeah, Remington… For some reason everyone listened to me, and they respected me. Well, most of them feared me. I was a mythic  _ bitch _ . By winter exams sophomore year it had already gone to my head. I was really awful, they could do a psychological study on how I became that evil that fast. It was some Zimbardo shit. Anyway, there was this girl, Betty Finn. She was nobody, not a geek, not a nerd, she just, was horrifically normal. I really hated her, she wasn’t bullied, wasn’t popular, there were no expectations. She was able to be friends with the cheer captain  _ and  _ be a mathlete, who does that?” 

There was a lull as Heather reminisced on Betty and herself. Veronica spoke as hesitant as she could, drunk as she was, “Well, Heather and Heather aren’t exactly avid fans of scholastic decathlons, but they’re in the same boat, no?” Heather, let out a breath, thinking. “No, not really. The Heathers have Kurt and Ram after them all the time, they party hard, they don’t really know any ‘geeks’ or ‘nerds’. They still have an image they’re upholding, you know?” she furrowed her brow, and turned to Veronica for a moment before continuing her story.

“I… I was on a mission to ruin Betty’s life. If I couldn’t have what she had, then she couldn’t have it either. It got to a point, the end of last year… she was out with the flu, or some bullshit. But… people, they didn’t like her anymore. Since I hated her, everyone else fell in line, too. She was out sick, and some asshole started saying she killed herself. I don’t know how but eventually the joke got the the point of most students believing it, that she downed a bottle of pills before bed and never woke up.” Veronica had at some point rolled onto her side, watching Heather with her full attention. She continued, “When I heard, I believed it. Why wouldn’t I? Her life was hell. She had every reason to want to die, I thought I made her want to die… It made  _ me  _ want to die…”

Veronica watched as tears welled in Heather’s eyes from reliving the tale she was retelling. She reached a hand out and laid it on Heather’s. Heather was returned to reality for a moment, turning her hand over to squeeze Veronica’s in hers. Heather didn’t dare to turn and meet Veronica’s gaze, because then the tears would start and never stop, or so she felt. She took a shaky breath, “And, uhm… I went home that day after school and… I had this concept that I used to believe, that by being a bitch I was teaching people real life. That if you want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly… I thought I was teaching them to fly, but… I realized that day that all I was doing was shoving my eagle-ass-foot into their flightless necks.” A few tears escaped her eyes at the thought of her past self, of the things she’d done. It took everything in Veronica to not let go of her hand and wipe away those tears. She needed this, to let it all out to someone.

“I thought to when it all started, why it all started. Betty had what I wanted, so I took it from her, so neither of us could have it. Solidarity, you know? Not exactly conventional, but solidarity. And I thought, that’s it: She had what I wanted again, she didn’t have to deal with any of this, she didn’t have to live thinking she ended a girl’s life. But… I couldn’t take that from her so I thought for a while, about what I should have done when I first met her. I called her a pillow-case. But I should have been her friend, joined her. And then it hit me… I should have joined her… I got this lame notebook for my birthday, I used it for to-do lists and crap. I wrote a note, it was sappy, and gross, to be honest. How I was being crushed by society, people didn’t think I had feelings, or substance. Just ‘cause I’m pretty doesn’t mean I’m numb. What did I call it… ‘The Curse of Popularity…’ I went on and on about how the only way I could ever be happy was if I gave up my power, and how the only way I could do that was through death… I could be the me inside of me… I had no idea how I was going to do it, but I remembered that they said she took pills, so I went into the bathroom. And lucky me, I didn’t have any pills, of fucking course. So I dug around and found some drain cleaner. I just sat there for at least half an hour before I even took the cap off. All I could think about was… everything I said, and did, to Betty. Once I opened it, the smell hit me like gunshot. It was so… bland, and chemical, but so specific. I could probably sniff blue Draino out of a line-up blindfolded if I wanted do. I mean, I’d rather not, but… Anyway.

“I could smell it all the way up to my lips, probably why I didn’t just throw it back. I took one  _ little _ sip, and that was it. I vomited it up, all over me, and the bathroom. But Jesus, for one sip, it was all blue. The same shade of fucking blue. Who would have thought that Heather Chandler’s impenetrable psyche would be defeated by Draino-induced post traumatic stress? You try to kill yourself once and you can’t clean sinks for the rest of your life, fucking horrible trade-off. ” She went to continue speaking, but Veronica cut her off with a stern but concerned, “Heather.” Her head snapped up to meet Veronica’s wide eyes. She shut her mouth, and turned back to the ceiling. She swallowed, breathed deeply, and continued back on track, “So, I’m in the bathroom, covered in suicide-vomit, and I just stay there. Two hours I think it was? Then mom got home and, of course, she found me. And my God I’d rather  _ actually  _ die than see that look on her face ever again. See that face and know that I did that, too. But, uhm, she cleaned me up, drove me to the hospital. And when the doctor asked what was wrong, my throat was so raw, and my mom.. She just-she couldn’t even say it. I fell asleep on the car ride home, by the next afternoon my throat was mostly okay. She, of course, wanted to talk about it. I didn’t tell her the truth, what I thought I did to Betty. I didn’t tell her anything. She deduced that the kids at school made me want to, and while she wasn’t wrong, she wanted me to stay at Remington, to ‘show those kids that I can’t fall that easily, that I’m the bigger person for it’... But I just couldn’t… And Karma had some kind of vendetta on my ass because my only friend texted me, not to ask why I was out, no, but to tell me that Betty Finn was in class, glowing with health and newly recovered from her dreadful cold...”

Heather was crying. God Heather was crying and Veronica was holding her now but she knew that it wouldn’t be enough, nothing would be enough, going back in time wouldn’t even be enough. It was irreparable. And Heather felt like it was all her fault, hers and hers alone. She cried, eventually Veronica cried, and they fell asleep with migraines closer to sunrise than they realized. To any omnipotent presence that could have seen it, it would have been absurd: The bitch who could have bullied a girl to death, and the nobody who’s been bullied since she could walk. What a curious pair.

_ Dear Diary, _

_ Heather’s asleep on my other arm so I’m doing this one handed, but that’s irrelevant. I… Tonight feels to personal to write about, even in here. It feels sacred, a moment in time that doesn’t necessarily need to be immortalized like this. It’s for me and Heather’s minds, and I think that’s safe enough. I’ll write in the morning, hopefully hungover-sober me has more to write about than cried-myself-into-sobriety me. _


	5. You and Jesse James

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing *too* exciting, but I still think it's a cute chapter, enjoy!

_ Dear Diary, _

_ Heather’s showering, and her mom’s making breakfast downstairs, and it feels so normal, but new. Jamais vu, almost. I’ve had sleepovers and drunk crashings before, but this felt so unique. Don’t ask me why, once her mom leaves for work Heather’s keeping that promise about a prairie oyster, God knows I could use it. _

_ Anyway, last night. What a roller coaster. We were hanging out, then we were drinking, then we were dancing, and then I think Heather did a body shot off of Heather Duke? It got exponentially blurry as the night progressed, don’t hold me to that. I kind of remember Kurt and Ram cheering at me? Probably happy that I’m back on the party scene. Woo Hoo… It’s weird, I barely remember the party, but I remember almost every little detail about Heather’s room. I couldn’t tell you how we got there, but I sure as hell could tell you what happened. Christ, she’s been through too much. Who makes up a joke like that? It’s horrific. I’m kind of  _ honored _ that she told me  _ anything _ , let alone her deepest darkest secret. Talk about baring your soul in an alcoholic stupor… _

 

Veronica was distracted by her writing by a fully dressed and made up Heather returning to her room. While climbing out of bed, she said, “Hey, Heather, thanks, again, for letting me crash. My mom would have me crucified if she caught me wasted like that.” They shared a laugh. “Yeah, well, I like to think I’m good company, even when sobbing, drunk. So, do want some clothes? A ride home? My mom’s making pancakes or something if you want to hang around…” she trailed off, trying not to show her bias toward the option of Veronica staying. Back at Remington she wasn’t exactly one to have slumber parties. Even after hook-ups there was no one there in the morning. To say this, waking up on the arms of a cute girl, was new would be an understatement to end all understatements. Veronica shut her diary and shyly stood from the bed, “If you and your mom don’t mind, pancakes sound pretty nice…” Heather tried to hide her smile, nodding, “Yeah, sure of course. I’ll get you some clothes if you want brush your teeth and wash up…?” Veronica nodded, and smiled at Heather before making her way into the hall bathroom. Heather leaned her head back, letting her smile and a deep breath out, before happily making her way to the dresser. She could not  _ wait _ to see Veronica in her clothes.

 

The two of them were sitting at Heather’s kitchen counter, scarfing down pancakes. Heather got up to clear her plate and and slammed a cup down in front of Veronica, making her jump a little. Heather smirked, “So, Veronica Sawyer, you can have advil, or you can have a prairie oyster. What’ll it be?” Veronica put down her fork and leaned her arms on the counter, “Well last time you made me a drink I… I can’t remember most of what happened after you made me a drink, actually. In that case, fuck it, I’ll try your oyster-whatever.” Heather laughed, apparently a lot more sober than Veronica was last night, and began moving about the kitchen, stirring this liquid and that spice together, before slamming the cup much more gently in the same place before Veronica, “Bon Appetit, my dear.” She moved to make her own drink before turning back to Veronica, “Oh, and, try not to think about it--just drink.” Veronica lowered the glass from her lip, looking at it contents, concerned. She looked back up to Heather, a question in her eyes. Heather simply winked before turning to make a concoction for herself. She looked away quick, but not quick enough to miss the blush that bloomed on Veronica’s face. God, she was cute, sitting in her kitchen, in her red sweater, blushing over a home-cooked breakfast. New, indeed.

 

The ride to school consisted of blasting pop songs as loud as they could without irritating the leftovers of last night in their heads. They parked in the school’s lot and noticed they were a few minutes early. Heather was about to get out of the car, suggesting they head to homeroom anyway, when Veronica stopped her with a hand on her arm. She gently pulled her back into her seat, leaving her hand there as she spoke, “Hey, I just wanted to say that, last night, you’re secrets will always be safe with me, no matter what it is. And, uhm, thank you, for trusting me enough to tell me. I mean, I know we were really drunk so you might not have even trusted me  _ that  _ much but at least-” “‘Ronnie. Shut up real quick, ok?” Heather interrupted, setting her other hand atop Veronica’s. “I trust you, I soberly trust you. And all of your secrets will stay with me too. Now let’s get to homeroom before you make us late.”

 

Lunch came around without much excitement throughout the day, at least for the rest of them. While walking to the cafeteria, none other than Jason Dead stopped Veronica in the hall. At first she was confused, thought maybe he had her mixed up with someone else. Then he said, “You shouldn’t have bowed down to the swatch-dogs and diet-coke-heads, Sawyer, they’re gonna’ crush you. It’s obvious you and Dumptruck have souls, you just have to try harder to keep them clean.” Veronica blinked, open and closed her mouth, unsure of what to say, “... Excuse me?” Jason laughed, and cocked his head patronizingly, “Have fun turning into one of those color-coded bitches. You could have been good, but, you know what they say, ‘We’re all born marked for evil.’” He smirked before pushing himself off of a nearby locker and away from the wall, walking away with his trenchcoat billowing behind him. Veronica was nothing short of stunned and  _ still _ confused.

 

She sat down at their table, still visibly shocked from her encounter. Martha notices first, “Whoa, ‘Ron, you okay? Did you forget to do a project again?” Veronica shook her head, the rest of the table, that being the Heathers, were now paying attention to the interaction. Martha thought for a moment then gasped, “No! You didn’t forget to do that English essay did you? Veronica you love shakespeare!” Veronica shook her head again, this time explaining herself, “No, no it’s nothing to do with school. Jason Dean just stopped me in the hall.” Five faces twisted into confusion, and concern. Heather Duke spoke up, “Red dawn? The hell did he want?” Veronica recounted the events of not but ten minutes ago, “He… called you color coded bitches? And then he basically used a Baudelaire quote to call me evil I think? He said my soul is dirty? I don’t even know. Today’s been… so weird.” Martha nodded and returned to eating, Heather Duke looked between hers and Heather McNamara’s outfits, huffing when she saw that they were, in fact, “color coded”. Heather Chandler, though, was watching Veronica, thinking about their morning. Weird? Did Veronica think this morning was weird? Did she push a boundary somewhere?

 

_ Dear Diary, _

_ Today was… different. I’ve had sleepovers before, I’ve had drunk heart-to-hearts, so I don’t know why waking up in Heather’s bed this morning was so… intimate? But not  _ intimate _ , you know? It felt special, even though nothing  _ special _ happened. When I woke up she was still cuddling me, and I had my arm around her, and I really don’t want to sound like a creep when I say it felt amazing. She was playing footsie with me in her sleep! It was adorable! God she’s adorable. And she was dreaming and mumbling into my neck and it tickled like you can't believe. Right before she woke up she squeezed me really hard and I might have squeaked. I acted like I was asleep, is that creepy? I don’t know when exactly she woke up, but eventually she rolled over and waited for me to “wake up” I think. Maybe she thought  _ I _ thought cuddling a sleeping person was creepy too. Or I’m making that up to feel better about myself. Who knows. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to leave a kudos or comment if there's something specific you want to see. I've kind of reached a point in the story where I don't exactly have a plan for what's to come, so I could use some reader-input, lol.


	6. Something With a Happy Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of suicide, it’s not a heavy chapter at all though. Thanks for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally posted chapter 5 again yesterday, oops! I haven’t been on Ao3 all day, just noticed. Sorry about that! To make up for it, chapter 6 happens to be my favorite thus far ;) It’s also the longest, so yay! Please, enjoy !

_Dear Diary,_  
_Justice League today! Not going to lie, wasn’t exactly the focus of my mind the last few days, until I remembered I’m going with Heather. And Martha, of course. We haven’t seen a movie without each other since we met. Which was like… third grade. It’s a long-standing tradition. Anyway, I’ve decided, that I’m going to make a move in the dark. I’m going to try and hold her hand, or nudge feet, during the movie. With Heather oh my God, not Martha. Definitely not Martha. Martha would so hold my hand, though. Sweetheart. ALRIGHT I’m going to school. And then I’m doing it._

For a the first Friday of the school year, Veronica’s morning was overall pretty calm. Classes were the usual, and she only got one weird look from Jason Dean on her way to second period, so, three cheers to that. Then, the thought struck her: she still didn’t know if Heather was gay. Oh God. She can’t flirt with a maybe straight girl, she’s seen the movies, she knows how _Lost and Delirious_ ends. That left two options: figure out Heather’s sexuality by six that night, or let it happen naturally and lose her shot. And what a decision that is.

Lunch rolled around eventually, and Veronica had made her choice. She rushed to Martha and their empty table before getting her lunch and hurriedly told her, “Hey, tonight. I’m sitting in the middle, and I need to get Heather alone beforehand. Help me out?” Martha smiled and rolled her eyes, knowing this could only be a scheme of romance, “Really ‘Ron? I guess I can get a ride downtown with Mom. This better be worth it, Romeo.” Veronica smiled and sighed with relief, thank her excessively before running off to get lunch before they’re out of the good stuff.

When she returned, soggy sandwich in tow, the Heathers had arrived at the table, also. Veronica plopped down in her seat, grabbing Martha’s attention. Veronica gave her a look, to which she earned a raised eyebrow. She rolled her eyes, jerking her head lightly toward Heather, who was distracted by homework. Martha sighed, before announcing, “Hey, ‘Ron, my mom wants me to go to the store with her before the movie, so I won’t need a ride. I’ll meet you guys at the theatre at six.” Heather looked up, turning to Veronica. It’s at times like these that she’s glad she did youth theatre. In full acting mode, Veronica replied, “Aw, alright. Heather, you still need a ride?” She nodded. “Yeah if you don’t mind. If it’s not out of your way,” she teased, referencing their conversation days prior. Veronica blushed, and turned her face down toward her lunch tray to hide it.

Heather smirked to herself, addressing the table, “Hey are any of you any good at English? I have to write a poem from this character’s perspective.” Heather McNamara’s head shot up, excited smile in place. “Yes! I love poetry. Actually, me and Veronica took creative writing together last year. It was a blast!” she said, very quickly. She looked to Veronica excitedly, who subconsciously clutched her hand tighter around her diary. “Yeah, it was really fun. We spent a while on poetry. So, what’s the assignment?” she asked Heather Chandler. She sighed, flicking the paper straight dramatically, “‘You have been assigned a character from our required reading. Please write a poem from the character’s perspective regarding their flaws, which we discussed in class.’ Get this-- her ‘flaw’? She’s suicidal.” Veronica visibly paled, wondering how Heather can be so okay right now. Is she okay? She looks perfectly fine, in fact she looked casually amused by the task at hand.

Martha stole her attention with a possible line of poetry, “I had pain in my path, like Sylvia Plath?” Heather McNamara raised a finger, shooting up in her seat, “My problems were myriad--” She was cut off by Heather Chandler, “I was having my period,” and the whole table burst into very mature, grown-up giggles.

It was the end of the school day and Veronica was walking to her car, when she felt a hand curl around her elbow softly. She turned to see who and was met with red hair, bright eyes, and the cutest dimpled smile. “Hey! Are you gonna’ remember how to get to my house, or am I going to have to send you my address?” she joked, knowing full well Veronica couldn’t remember a second of their evening. Veronica shot back, “No, I think I’m going to be just fine getting there, don’t you worry, Chandler.” Heather rolled her eyes, not releasing Veronica’s arm until they reached her car. “Give me your phone, loser,” she requested, hand outstretched. Veronica confusedly complied, handing it over with a raised brow. Heather typed for a minute before sending a text, her own phone buzzing in response. She handed Veronica’s back to her, smiling before bidding her goodbye and walking to Heather Duke’s Jeep. Veronica watched Heather’s retreating form, not like that, and smiled as she skipped into a hug with Heather McNamara. She looked to her phone, seeing that she had sent a text to My Favorite Heather that read “i cant wait to see u later and give you all my popcorn and candy!! and of COURSE ill buy u corn nuts, dw. bq, never plain. oh! and u can have my armrest thru out the movie too ;)”. Cute.

It was minutes before Veronica had to leave to pick up Heather, and what was she doing? Standing in front of her mom’s mirror, asking her for the upteenth time if her outfit was too eager, to casual, to date-ey, blah blah blah. Her mom told her the same again and again, she looked lovely, it was an adorable outfit, she liked this one more than the last. Veronica felt only slightly psychotic. It wasn’t a date, nowhere near! It was Heather tagging along on her and Martha’s movie night, a more than common occurrence. So why was she losing it. Well, she knows why, but thinking about it makes her more nervous. She was going to come out to Heather in the car, because where else would one come out? It’s the perfect place! There’s no escape for either party! God, this was going to go horribly. No, no more negative thoughts! It’s going to be fine. She’s going to get the conversation going, then she’s going to just pop it out. “Heather, I’m bisexual.” Easy. And, if the books and movies are anything to go off of, it will prompt Heather to come forth with any information regarding her own sexuality, should it be anything other than straight. A girl can hope, on that front.

She left the house in her jeans and hoodie, and outfit her mom described as cozy, cute, and just casual enough. Thanks, mom. Veronica sighed nervously as she pulled up to her Heather’s house, the outside of which looked completely foreign, sober and in the daylight. It was a cute little house, probably nothing like the huge houses/small mansions around Remington. She was pulled from her thoughts as Heather exited her front door, turning to blow a kiss to her mom or dad before walking to the car. As she reached for the handle, Veronica locked the door, flashing an innocent smile through the window at an unamused Heather. Did that count as flirting? Probably. She unlocked the door, and Heather climbed in, graceful as ever. The day Veronica saw her trip would be the day she was raptured by the second coming of Jesus Christ himself. Veronica turned to greet her when she was stopped short, smiling excitedly as she asked, “Oh my God, are those your glasses? You look--” Heather stopped her with a high pitched groan, “Like some trekkie geek? Yeah, I know.” She pouted at Veronica who smiled cheekily, “I was going to say, that you look cute.” Heather’s put turned to a glare, but she couldn’t help the blush that appeared on her cheeks.

They were on the road to the theater. Veronica was about to put her plan into effect, after a few minutes of psyching herself up and plenty of nervous sweat, when Heather spoke before she could, “So, you know how we said that we would keep each other’s secrets? It got me thinking that since you’re the first person here that I told about last year, maybe you could be the first person that I told… that… I’m gay, I think.” Whoa. Veronica would have been staring with her mouth open like an idiot if she wasn’t driving, so instead she stuttered for a few minutes before easing an increasingly anxious Heather with, “Thank you, for trusting me, that is. Again. I’m proud of you, you know. It’s hard, especially the first time.” Heather looked at her, confused, not wanting to assume what she was hearing. Veronica looked at her for a moment before looking back to the road, “When I told Martha I was bi I thought I was going to lose my only friend. It was horrifying. I didn’t know what my mom and dad were going to do when I told them, either. I packed an overnight bag beforehand in case they kicked me out. Told Martha I would text her if I was going to need their air mattress.” They pulled up to a red light and she looked over to a teary-eyed Heather, “I’m proud of you. You’re a beautiful person, and I’m really proud of you.” Heather smiled in thanks before looking forward. Veronica only knew the light turned green because she saw the colored light reflecting off of Heather’s profile.

They were standing outside the cinema, looking at the posters they had displayed out front, when Martha arrived. The three of them made their way inside, buying their tickets, and tacked onto the end of the snack line. When they reached the front, Martha bought herself a popcorn, lots of salt, little butter (Veronica and Heather both grimaced when she ordered), and a pack of M&M’s. Veronica got herself a slushie and some red vines, and sent Heather a look as she ordered a large popcorn and a pack of cornnuts. BQ, of course. Never plain. Heather blushed and hid it with a laugh and an eyeroll, taking her cornnuts from Veronica as they entered their designated theater. They sat and chatted until the lights went down and the film began. Veronica had snagged the middle seat, with Martha on her right by the aisle and Heather on her left, bucket of popcorn in her lap.

It was probably around forty-five minutes into the movie when Veronica decided she was going to initiate contact of some sort with Heather. She was still working out how to go about it when she felt featherlight fingertips tracing airy patterns on her thigh. Chills. As she continued, Veronica let out a sigh of absolute comfort. The scene on the screen before them reached a climax and stole Heather’s complete attention, leaving her hand stilled and lightly resting on Veronica’s leg. Veronica took this moment to 1) discreetly wipe the sweat from her hand, then 2) slide her hand carefully under Heather’s, barely interlocking their fingers. This was safe. This was really nice. Then there was a bang on screen, and they both jumped, subconsciously squeezing their hands tighter. Oh. They were holding hands. Properly, hand in hand, Heather’s arm resting on the armrest between them. They were very still as they both realized. They sat like that for a while, comfortable. Then, Veronica breathed in, and turned their hands, lightly rubbing her thumb along Heather’s. She could hear her gasp through her nose, a lull in the movie creating a thin quiet. Her thumb stilled. Heather exhaled. Veronica smiled, before resuming the soothing motion. They continued as they were for the whole movie.

The lights came on and Heather retracted her hand quickly, grabbing the barely touched popcorn off the floor. The whole way through the lobby and to the ice cream shop down the street Martha rambled on and on about the movie. Heather and Veronica walked beside her, painfully aware of their hands’ proximity. They reached the ice cream shop, and Martha hurried off, saying her mom was calling. But Veronica knows that Martha has a custom ringtone for her mom, and Veronica heard nothing. She eyed her suspiciously as she held the phone up to her ear and walked around the small shop. She turned back to find herself face to face with a shivering Heather. Her nose and cheeks were red and she was trying to breathe warm air into her hands. Veronica joked, “Cold?” Heather rolled her eyes and smiled, “A little, yeah. It didn’t get this cold this early in Remington. Freakin’ shoreline town…” Veronica laughed as she took Heather’s hands in her own. “Oh my God, you are really cold!” Heather laughed and her breath misted in the air. She wriggled her hands free, took a step closer, and laid them on Veronica’s warm cheeks. Ow. Veronica gasped and jumped back at the cold, but Heather caught her hands, laughing at her expense, and pulled her close again. Veronica breathed out a laugh, “You frosty bitch.” She took Heather’s hands and tried to rub some warmth into them, and was startled by Martha sneaking up on them. She jumped and Heather quickly retracted her hands as she appeared next to them, phone still in hand. She eyed Veronica’s hands but didn’t say anything on the matter. “My mom’s parked around the other side, I’ll see you both tomorrow. Don’t stay out too late, I need you in chemistry tomorrow,” she scolded as she walked away again. Veronica knew Martha Dunnstock like the back of her hand, so she know when her friend is playing wingwoman. She had left Heather and Veronica alone for the evening. Talk about a best friend.

Heather took Veronica’s hands and stepped closer once more, before putting both of their hands in Veronica’s hoodie pocket. Veronica looked up, and wow their faces were close together. Their cloudy breath fogged the air between them, and Veronica whispered, not wanting to disrupt the moment, “Wanna get some hot chocolate?” Heather nodded, and they separated to stand in line. While waiting, Heater hooked their pinkies together, arms hanging by their sides.

They sat at the table out front of the ice cream shop, sipping their cocoa, ankles interlocked beneath the table. The evening consisted soft conversations and sweet giggles, cold hands and warm drinks. Before it got too late, heeding Martha’s warning, they rushed back to the theater parking lot, into the warmth of Veronica’s car for the second time that night. That sat as the heaters blew warm air for a moment, Heather wiping the building condensation off her glasses. Veronica experimentally laid one hand on Heather’s knee, the other gripping the wheel. HEather looked up at her at the contact. Veronica smiled, “Wanna put it in reverse?” Her hand stayed on Heather’s leg all the way to her house, Heather’s hand resting on the gearshift.

Ever the gentleman, Veronica walked Heather to her door. It was beyond dark out at this point, only the light over the door illuminating the pair. Heather leaned her back against the door, “Well, ‘Ron. I had a lovely evening. I’ll be sure to thank Martha in the morning.” Heather stepped into her space, joking along, “Yeah, she really knows how to rock a gal’s night.” They looked at each other, smiled. Was this the right time? Would there ever be a right time? Veronica made her decision as she brought her hands to gently rest on Heather’s sides, waiting a moment to gauge her reaction. Heather smiled, excited at the thought of what was to come, and brought her hands to Veronica’s shoulders. Veronica’s hands moved lightly down to Heather’s waist pulling their bodies closer. Heather was frozen. She wanted to, she knew that Veronica was waiting, letting her take the lead, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t take that leap with herself yet. They were no longer looking each other in the eye, gazes locked on lips and misty breath blurring the space between them in the cold air. She held her breath, tried to make herself kiss Veronica, to open that door, but she sighed, unable. She whispered, instead, “Well, are you gonna kiss me?” Veronica chuckled lightly, reveling in the silence around them. She whispered back, “Do you want me to?” Heather breathed out a laugh, tried to answer yes, but could only nod in response. She closed her eyes, felt warm hands move from her waist to her ribs, her back press into the door, a breath on her lips, and then Veronica was kissing her. And she didn’t stop for what felt like forever. An eternity wrapped up in all things Veronica Sawyer. What a life.

 _Dear Diary,  
Holy shit_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry about the mess-up!! But thatnk you so much for reading!!!! Like I said last week, if there’s anything you’d like to see or for me to incorporate, please let me know !


	7. Going Steady, Mostly She's Awesome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I actually edited the chapter before posting it, who's proud of me? Anyway, I like this chapter a lot, it's a fluffy little thing. Please enjoy!

_ Dear Diary, _

_ If I text Heather, is that clingy? I don’t want to be a clinger. But if I don’t talk to her now will she think it meant nothing? When is it appropriate? Are we going to have the “What are we?” talk? Oh God. I can’t mess this up, what the hell! Fuck. I have to talk to her. Do I text or call. I wonder if she’s doing anything today…  _ Focus _ , Sawyer! But if she is free, is it too soon to hang out? Ugh. I can’t think right now. You could say I… can’t think straight. Hah. I love that movie. I wonder if Heather’s ever seen it. I’ll have to show her. If we can still hang out, GOD, I’m getting in the shower and maybe my brain will stop short circuiting once I’m awake. _

Veronica was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the blinking line on her screen while her mom talked about  _ whatever _ over breakfast. What would she even say? “Hey, are you free today? I really wanna make out in your yard again.” What the fuck. Ok. She’s got this. “Hey”. Hey? That’s too neutral. Um… “Hey Heath :)”. Lord no. “Hey, what’s up?” Ok. That’s… fine. Before she could delete it  _ again _ she hit send and set her phone face down on the table. “Well, well, well, look who’s re-joined the world of the living. Who’re you texting, dear, a  _ boy _ ?” her mother pried. Veronica rolled her eyes and shoved a mouthful of food in her mouth. Her father looked up over his newspaper, “Veronica’s talking to a boy? That’s exciting. Who is he?” Veronica groaned around her waffles. “Mom, Dad, there’s no  _ boy _ , God,” she quipped, hoping to change the subject. She had absolutely no idea where she and Heather stood. Her father sat forward, folding his paper up, “Ohhh, so there’s a girlie, then.” Veronica’s eyes widened, and she would have denied it if she couldn’t feel the heat in her cheeks, traveling up to her ears. She finished chewing, very slowly, wiping her mouth afterward. She looked up, finding four eyes on her, waiting. She rolled her eyes nonchalantly, shrugging, “It’s nothing serious. We haven’t even gone on a date… Sort of, we went on a maybe, half date. Either way, it’s nothing, so you can go back to your paper, or whatever.” Her father raised his eyebrows, smirked, and picked up his newspaper. Her mom however, opened her mouth to continue, so, without thinking, Veronica blurted out, “Actually, you know what? I’m going to her house right now, so I’ll be on my way!” On autopilot-escape-mode she cleared her plate, and grabbed her keys. Fuck. “Bye Mom, bye Dad!” she opened the door. Oh God, what was she doing. She turned and walked out, her dad calling after her “Tell your girlfriend we say hi!” before the door shut.

Holy shit. What did she just do? Curse her impulsive freaking mouth. She sighed, and checked her phone as she walked down the driveway to her car. She had two texts from Heather Chandler, and one from Martha. She opened that one first. It read, “How was last night? Hope you don’t mind me leaving you two alone ;D” Oh, Martha. If only she knew. She texted back an equally teasing text, not giving away too much. Veronica would never out someone, even if it meant not being able to talk to her best friend about a… date? We’ll call it an accidental date. Then she checked her messages from Heather. Oh boy. They read, “hey ron. to be honest, ive been trying to grow the balls to text u all morning” Oh. She read the next, “r u doing anything later?” She breathed a sigh of relief. Heather was unsure too. They could talk this out. She replied, “no. r u doing anything right now? bc i can remember how to get to ur house now”

Veronica pulled up to Heather’s with a whole new anxiety. She saw a car already parked in the driveway. Her mom was home. Great. What could go wrong? Wait, don’t think about that, don’t jinx it. She took a deep breath, might have given herself a quick pep talk, and stepped out of her car. The walk to her front door was much too long for Veronica’s nerves. She knocked far more confidently than she felt, and she heard Heather yell, “Mom, I’ve got it, please!” before a red haired woman opened the door. An out of breath Heather Chandler stood a few steps behind her, obviously having tried to reach the door first. So much for that. She smiled when she saw Veronica over her mom’s shoulder, “Mom, this is Veronica Sawyer, she showed me around downtown last night.” Her mom smiled, “Oh, how nice! Please, Veronica, come in!” Veronica smiled, thanked Ms. Chandler for having her, and followed Heather deeper into the house.

They took a flight of stairs up into a hallway, and landed in Heather’s room. Now this Veronica remembered, clearly. The décor, memorabilia. Heather’s glasses by on her table. Heather sat on the edge of her bed, watching Veronica, who stood in front of her unsurely. “Are we having this talk right now? No easing into it? Alrighty then,” she shuffled back against the headboard, getting comfy. She patted next to her, “Come on, ‘Ron, let’s get through this so the whole day isn't this awkward.” Veronica sighed, climbing up beside her. They both sat there, reveling in the uncomfortable tension, yet still pleased by the other’s company.

Heather let out a dramatic breath, “So, I’m not telling my mom. Not yet, at least. I’m not there yet.” Veronica nodded, knowing the feeling. “Well, I’m already in the shits with my parents. They think I went on a date last night.” Heather turned to Veronica, brow furrowed, “Was it not?” Veronica raised her eyebrows cautiously, “Was it? I mean, I’m totally fine if it was, I just wasn’t sure, you know? I don’t want to push you, like I’m fine if it wasn’t either, we don’t even have to move forward if you’re—” She was cut off by Heather’s hand on hers. “Veronica, breathe, please. I don’t need you hyperventilating on me, Jesus.” Veronica took a deep breath, and it only barely calmed her nerves. Heather withdrew her hand, and spoke almost shakily, “I… am not exactly comfortable in my sexuality right now. Shocker, I know.  _ But _ , I would really like to consider last night a date. Like I said, I can’t tell my mom yet. But I don’t think I’d mind Martha knowing. Or, you know,  _ your _ family, I guess. I might tell Heather and Heather, who knows. I’m not exactly used to being able to be honest, about anything.” Veronica nodded, processing. “Well, I’m glad that you’re okay being honest now. I mean, not that you have to be out, to anyone, really! But, still, it’s—” She stopped herself when she saw the look Heather was giving her. Amused, but wishing she'd shut up nonetheless. “So, anyway, last night was a date. And… we kissed,” Veronica stated incredulously. Heather blushed, moving until she was on her stomach, burying her face in her arms. Veronica scooched down until she was laying on her back. Heather peaked out at her, face still red. “Stop staring at me.” Veronica laughed and rolled over too, resting her head on her arms. They watched each other for a second. In a moment the energy of their gaze changed and they were both leaning toward each other. It was lips and hands and teeth, but then it was slow. Heather sat up, ready to get more comfortable, when two arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her on top of Veronica. And that’s how they spent the next hour.

Around one Veronica woke up, completely blissful. The sun was shining through Heather’s windows, there was music playing downstairs, and Heather was laying on her chest, playing with the tips of her hair. Veronica sighed, content, and began combing her fingers through Heather’s bedhead. Noticing she was awake, Heather said, “You snore, you know.” Veronica chuckled, “Yeah, and you’re a koala.” Heather simply wrapped her arms around Veronica, squeezing her closer, nuzzling her head further into Veronica’s neck.

Veronica continued playing with Heather’s hair, the breath on her neck tickling, “So, what’s the plan for today?” Again, Heather didn’t respond with words, but shyly pressed a feather-light kiss to the side of Veronica’s neck. Veronica’s breath faltered for a minute, “I see… Not complaining, at all, but if I go downstairs with a hickey your plan of secrecy is fucked.” Heather sighed and sat up, knowing Veronica was right. “Fine, loser, any better ideas?” she asked. Veronica sat up too, running a hand through her sleep-tousled hair. She looked at the clock, then to Heather, “Wanna do lunch?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok now I'm really at a point where I'll take almost any suggestions. Seriously, if there's anything you'd like to see or be included, drop a comment ! Thanks so much for reading and for all of the love you send, it means so much <3 especially since in the past week we gained over a thousand hits!!! Again, thank you so much, really.


	8. Pretty Girl Has Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!

Veronica and Heather sat at some cafe just outside of town, for safety’s sake, sipping on sodas with their ankles interlocked under the table, people-watching. Heather pointed at one couple that entered, narrating, “See those two? I bet they’re _both_ having affairs. And I bet they both know but can’t bring it up without revealing themselves.” Veronica gave her a disbelieving look, but Heather just raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, standing by her statement. Veronica laughed, “What is wrong with you?” Heather scoffed, sitting back, “Please, you know I’m right most of the time. Like when I told you Martha likes Ram. Your jaw was on the cafe floor for easily ten minutes.” Veronica scoffed, “Well _yeah_ , I was surprised! Not that I’m validating the statement that you’re always right, but how _did_ you know?” Heather lifted a hand like what she was saying was obvious, “When he came to the table that one time to talk to Heather she stared at her food the whole time. Any other time he’s around she stares, like some longing Disney princess. She got so shy! It’s the basics, ‘Ronnie.” She leaned back, smugly.

Veronica rolled her eyes and went back to people watching. She was about to point out the white suburban soccer mom across the room when she felt eyes on the side of her head. But they weren’t Heathers, she was checking her phone. She looked around the little cafe, until she met eyes with some guy around their age. And not to shoot from the hip, but he looked like a douche if she’d ever seen one. Khakis, a collared tee shirt, with a sweater tied over his shoulders. What was it, 1980?

She looked away but noticed he kept staring, and her anxiety grew. Did it look like she and Heather were on a date? Like they were a couple? She subconsciously moved the leg that was entwined with Heather’s, but that only drew his eyes to the motion. Fuck. At the loss of contact Heather looked up at a stressed Veronica, “What?” Veronica shook her head, “Nothing, just, that dude over there staring. It’s nothing, forget about it.” Heather looked at the guy over her shoulder, and he smiled in assholey amusement, almost a smirk, before getting up and leaving the cafe, a few bills left on the table. And to be honest? Veronica was horrified.

She turned back to Heather and saw her own anxiety in her eyes tenfold. Shit. Shit shit shit. Veronica leaned forward, reaching to take Heather’s hands in comfort, but stopped herself short, laying her hands just near Heather’s on the table. She tried to sooth Heather’s, and her own, nerves, “Heather, listen. It’s fine. It’s one creepy guy who probably thinks that lesbian sex is just oh-so-incredibly hot. Don’t let one weirdo mess with you, don’t give him that power.” Heather leaned back and groaned, “Does he go to Westerburg?” Veronica raked her mind, but had no idea who the boy was. She looked at Heather and gave her a sad smile, and a pathetic shrug. For all they knew he was just some kid, but who knows? Heather didn’t know anyone, and Veronica wasn’t exactly popular either. Either way, he could be anyone. Not terrifying at all, especially not to two closeted girls, who weren’t even really _together_.

Unable to further enjoy their quiet lunch, they left the cafe and made their way to Veronica’s car, just sitting there for a minute, before Veronica sighed and started the engine. Veronica looked like she wanted to say something, but hesitated. Heather lolled her head to the side, urging Veronica on. She sighed, shutting her eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry, gosh Heath’, I’m really fucking sorry,” she breathed out, bringing her hands up to rub the stress out of her yes. Heather sighed, leaning her head back in the headrest, “Veronica… it’s not your fault. There’s nothing to be faulted for. Not right now, at least.” Veronica sighed, and started the car. She wondered how Heather did that, staying calm, and calming Veronica, when it should be the exact opposite way around. “Is that healthy? Playing strong and acting unaffected?” she asked, beginning to drive away from the cafe. Heather chuckled almost humorlessly, “I have no idea. Sometimes it amazing, to be able to have your emotions in check, to have everything under your control. Like, that guy, I’m not going to let the hypotheticals of _him_ kill me. But then sometimes, sometimes I build the wall and I’m like God, you pillowcase, just let it out for once.” It was silent for a while, and Veronica thought she was done, when she spoke up again, “I, uhm, I went to therapy over the summer too. She said that I do it because the last time I let myself feel everything I ended up hospitalized and sent to an inpatient program. Needless to say she thinks I’m scared of myself, and… feeling things.” Veronica nodded as she thought.

She looked to Heather for a moment before asking, “So, feelings. What _kind_ of feelings scare you?” Heather blushed a little, and smiled shyly, “Well, is all of them a valid answer? Bad feelings, good feelings,” she snuck a glance at Veronica as she drove, “ _really_ good feelings, especially.” Veronica certainly got the message, nodded her head and blowing out an awkward breath. “So… really good feelings, like, romantic feelings? That scares you? You know, more than the whole… gay thing,” she asked, oh-so eloquently. Heather laughed to herself, blush darkening, “Yes, I’d definitely say the fear of dating women is amplified by the overall fear of being… open, I guess. Feeling too much lets things get out of control, you know? Like… last night. I kind of just let myself feel the happiness and we ended up making out against my front door for ten minutes. You know, you should consider yourself lucky, it’s not every day that I relinquish control like that.” She looked at Veronica out of the corner of her eye, and saw a blush far darker than her own creeping from her cheeks up to her ears. Veronica sputtered for a moment, not daring to look away from the road. She chuckled through the embarrassment, “Yeah, uh, about that… That was… ok, right?” Heather laughed at the implication, “Oh my God Veronica, are you asking me if you’re a good kisser?” Veronica laughed, hiding her face in one hand as they pulled up to a stop sign. “Jesus, no! Like, you’re ok that we kissed? … More than once? And I mean… it wouldn’t hurt to know what you thought.” Heather laughed as they started moving down the street. “Well…” she blushed again as she thought about their kisses, “I’d say you, Veronica Sawyer, are a superb kisser. And no, I don’t mind you kissing me. Like, at all.” They reached Veronica’s driveway.

Veronica considered her movements as she put the car in park and undid her seatbelt. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I kissed you now?” she asked, leaning over the console and lightly stroking Heather’s cheek with her thumb. Heather breathed in to steady herself, and closed her eyes to let herself think without short-circuiting from Veronica being that close to her face. “Uhm, actually… It’s the middle of the day, in plain sight, and your parents are home. Not yet.” She lightly patted Veronica on the cheek as they both leaned back from each other. Veronica nodded as she sat back in her seat, taking a breath as she shut off the car, flashing Heather a reassuring smile as they opened their doors and walked toward the house.

Veronica reached for the doorknob before she remembered the conversation she was having with her parents before escaping to Heather’s house. “Oh my Jesus Christ, wait--” Before Veronica could truly mend the error of her ways, she heard her mother on the other side of the door, “Robert, put that cigarette out and get in here, Veronica’s here with that girlfriend she mentioned!”  The girls’ faces drained of color, and Heather turned to Veronica with a hard look, arms crossed, “I’m sorry, _what_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm might have to go on a little hiatus, I'm almost done with chapter 9, but I don't want to be working week by week per chapter. I might try and write a few to let myself work to a place where there's less time pressure again. I don't know though. We'll see. Thank you so much for reading, I hope to see you next week !


End file.
